


Cooking MamaKuma

by volcanicrocks



Category: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cooking, Free Time Events (Dangan Ronpa), M/M, Makoto fucking disses Byakuya, Oneshot, School Mode (Dangan Ronpa), Slight Canon Divergence, Togami Byakuya is Bad at Feelings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but it's playful, i love their dynamic so much oml, monokuma being monokuma, so there's a little easter egg for u, the title is a reference to one of monokumas backups in school mode
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28773822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volcanicrocks/pseuds/volcanicrocks
Summary: Byakuya reveals he doesn't know how to cook and Makoto teaches him.Based on a trip ticket event from THH. hope u enjoy!! ^_^
Relationships: Naegi Makoto/Togami Byakuya
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Cooking MamaKuma

"So, uh... do you know how to cook?"  
"What are you talking about? Food is prepared by a chef. That's how this works."  
Makoto had asked Byakuya to join him in the dining hall, and the latter begrudgingly agreed. After seating themselves at one of many empty tables, they remained in awkward silence for several long minutes. Trying to make conversation, Makoto asked the first thing that came to mind. Apparently, it didn't bode so well for him. Byakuya was glaring at him, like he had just asked the most ridiculous question in the world.  
"Maybe I should teach you, then," Makoto mumbled, not really intending any meaning behind the words. Byakuya jolted and looked at him, baffled. It wasn't his usual sneer or scowl. His face was painted with curiosity, confusion, hesitance, fondness, and a myriad of others that Makoto couldn't quite discern. After being caught off guard, Byakuya straightened himself and feigned indifference. "Tch. I'm in no position to do busy work, much less be taught it by the likes of you. The fact you would even insinuate that proves you're even stupider than I thought."  
Makoto continued, undeterred by his jeering. "Oh, really? I would think it's a pretty useful skill to have. Especially when you're trapped in, oh, I don't know, a school with no personal chef or whatever?"  
Makoto half expected the boy to blow up at him for his teasing, but he appeared even more flustered than before. And if you squinted... a splash of rose dusting his cheeks. Trying to keep his composure, he bit back, "Just what are you on about? I can handle myself just fine. Don't say such moronic things."  
"So you're saying you can't do it?"  
"Of course I'm capable of it. I just have no need for culinary skills. You can carry on with your mindless dribble, but I'll be over here in the real world."  
Makoto chuckled. "I just find it ironic that the Ultimate Affluent Progeny can't even cook."  
Byakuya clenched his fists in frustration. Sighing, he conceded, "If you'll stop pestering me, fine. I suppose it might do me good to learn the skills of a commoner."  
Makoto chirped, "Alright, then! Our first lesson starts now." 

He directed Byakuya to the kitchen, not daring to touch his hand, fearing the consequences he might face. He might just have his entire bloodline wiped out for it.  
They strode over to the counter, surrounded by crates and stacks chock full of fresh produce. The stainless steel appliances and abundance of cutlery, silverware, pots and pans all seemed relatively new, further proving Monokuma's capacity for the budget. "So, what exactly are you making?"  
"What are we making," Makoto corrected. "And, we'll just do something simple, onigiri*." Byakuya crossed his arms. "You must be delusional if you think I'm going to eat-" Makoto cut him off, holding his index finger up.  
"Of course not. You don't have to eat it. Sometimes cooking is just for fun."  
Byakuya had mentioned in passing he would rather starve than eat cafeteria food. Makoto took it with a grain of salt, but it seemed he was completely serious.  
Byakuya scoffed. "Fun? How could manual labor be fun? I'm sure your standards are far lower than mine, but I'm not exactly keen on the idea of getting my hands dirty for this." Ignoring Byakuya's complaining, he rolled up his sleeves and wet his hands with soap and warm water. Byakuya occupied the sink perpendicular to him, thoroughly cleansing his hands and forearms before following Makoto to the stovetop. Byakuya stood, eyes darting back and forth between Makoto and the stove.  
"Well? Get on with it." He shook his head. "Er.. I mean, what's the first step?"  
"Well, we need to steam the rice, first. So can you get some water, please?" After rolling his eyes, Byakuya grabbed a pitcher and turned the sink back on, muttering something to the nature of how an esteemed heir like himself wasn't meant to be ordered around. Makoto combed through some cabinets, looking for the rice, then tore open the bag and carefully poured it into a measuring cup once he had discovered it.  
Byakuya returned with the less than half full pitcher of water. Makoto gratefully took it from him, and poured it into the steamer. He tipped the cup so the rice flowed into the water. He covered the steamer, moving to turn the dial on a small egg timer that was shaped like Monokuma for 20 minutes. Facing the stove again, Makoto turned the knob to medium-high heat, and immediately, the burner flared to life.  
Byakuya observed the boy intently. His movements were hypnotic, precise and delicate like he'd done this a thousand times before.  
Makoto cleared his throat. "Uh, Byakuya? You're staring."  
Byakuya snapped back to reality, averting his gaze. "It's nothing. You just seem very... in your element."  
Makoto untensed and smiled. "Oh, yeah. I do this for my sister a lot, so.."  
He recalled with fondness the days he would fix snacks for the both of them. He then remembered he was trapped in this school, and wondered how long it would be before he would get to see Komaru again. His mood shifted to melancholy, half-hearted wishfulness, his grin faltering. Eager to cut the tension, Makoto changed the subject.  
"Well, anyway. Let's move on to the next step.."  
He peered around the room, searching for the next ingredients, occasionally scouring a cabinet or crate. After procuring the dried seaweed from an air-sealed plastic bag, he snatched a couple knives from the magnetic tile keeping them in place. One of them is missing, he noted. Weird.  
Makoto strewed the nori* across a cutting board, and waved Byakuya over.  
"Ok, so, now we're gonna cut them into strips, about 8 cm long and 2 cm wide. I can help you if you need it." Byakuya raised an eyebrow and took a knife.  
"Oh, please. Just how incompetent do you think I am?" He focused in on the sheet of nori and pressed the knife down tentatively. He used his other hand to push on the dull side of the knife, and drove the blade in parallel to the cutting board, so the sheet was separated by sheer force. Makoto watched, perplexed. "Ah, that's not how you do it," he chimed. "Here, watch me do it."  
Makoto plunged the tip of the knife into the board, and rocked the knife forward to him so the sheet cut into a strip effortlessly. He repeated this motion a couple times, the knife oscillating across the wood. His swift, deliberate movements once again captivated Byakuya.  
Piercing the quiet atmosphere was the shrill sound of the Monokuma timer going off. They both jumped, and Makoto rushed to turn it off. "I guess the rice is done," he reiterated. Grabbing the lid, a billow of steam hit his face. He wafted it away, and grabbed the container of rice. He dove his hands into the bowl, grabbing fistfuls of the rice, then turned to reassure a seemingly disgusted Byakuya.  
"I washed my hands, remember? But if it makes you feel better, we can wear gloves." He plucked two pairs of disposable gloves (Geez, this kitchen has everything, he thought,) and handed one to the boy. He snatched them and pulled them on hastily, as did Makoto.  
"Ok, so, now we have to shape them. You can also fill them with salmon, or veggies, or whatever... but I guess it doesn't matter, since you aren't eating them." Makoto tenderly balled the sticky rice in his hands, shaping it into a rounded triangle. Byakuya mirrored his movements, glancing back every once in a while to match his pace. Once they had about 8 shapes made, Makoto began ornamenting the rice balls, sprinkling the sides with a dash of sesame seeds that neatly contrasted the stark white of the rice, and pressing the nori strips around the base of the rice. Byakuya did the same, taking care to try and make his look as good as Makoto's. The only notable difference was that Byakuya refrained from filling his.  
Once they finished, Makoto arranged them in a grid pattern on a plate, displayed in orderly, domino-like rows. Surprisingly, they looked pretty appetizing. Makoto looked upon his collaborative effort proudly, arms on his hips. Byakuya's normally intimidating stance looked slightly more relaxed. Makoto nudged his arm playfully. "I guess I was wrong. You are pretty good at cooking, huh?" The former flushed and his eyes widened, then scolded himself for being caught off guard. He didn't have a witty comeback or remark to combat Makoto's comment. He only shifted and pushed his eyeglasses up.  
"I'll probably just give these to some of our other classmates," Makoto added, "I wouldn't want them to go to waste." The other nodded in agreement.  
Makoto looked up at Byakuya. "That was really fun. Thank you." He gave a lopsided grin, eyes crinkled in contentedness. His continuous radiating positivity was contagious, almost sickening.  
"You're welcome," he replied. There wasn't a trace of contempt or sarcasm laced in his words. It was the first time Byakuya had felt at ease in a while. It was almost therapeutic. From the cooking or Makoto's presence, he couldn't tell what. He didn't have time to regret his words, though, because seemingly out of nowhere, Monokuma popped up. "Ahh, young love!" It probably was pretty telling, Makoto thought, how him and Byakuya were both looking at each other, inches apart. However, he just shoo'd the bear away. "Who would've thought you'd go for someone like him?" could be heard in the distance as the bear hurriedly waddled away.

**Author's Note:**

> *Onigiri is another word for rice balls, the kind you find in bento boxes. *Nori is just a word for edible dried seaweed. The more you know!  
> Also, I know I didn't follow the recipe exactly right, but, yknow, plot convenience.  
> I hope you enjoyed reading. Whew, this is my first story I've posted, so it probably sucks. I'm kinda scared to post it.  
> Feedback is greatly appreciated! Criticism too. I feel like I totally rushed the pacing, so let me know if it reads weird.  
> (also this is totally self indulgent, i love byakuya so much hhhhhh)  
> Comment or message me on tiktok ((@iputmydogintheoven)) for story ideas.


End file.
